The Broken Hunter
by jori-ulrand
Summary: Connor is finally home home after months of pursuing the Templar's. Mckenna was waiting for him with open arms, but is ignored in return. She doesn't yet realize that the inevitable has happened; something that can't be reversed. Connor ( Ratonhnhaké:ton ) Kenway X OC One-shot


I sank into the warm, dark waters up to my eyeballs. Unable to see the rest of my body, the pond I waded in seemed bottomless. Only the cool gravel weaving its way under my bare feet confirmed otherwise.

The night seemed extra lonely as the moon provided no company and the clouds blocked out the stars. The only comfort provided by nature was the presence of the fireflies. Their endless blinking lights were a small form of comfort. They reflected florescent against the nearly perfect, glassy water, the only noticeable disturbance of ripples on its surface provided by myself.

I stared at the insects. Connor and I had been married for four months and two days. He was only present for one of those months. Before he left, I didn't ask where he was going. I already knew. He returned five days ago, other than a brief reunion with a few kisses and embrace he has barely touched me. He spoke even less words. He was gone at dawn and returned at supper then slept without saying one word. I was too heartbroken and angered to ask why he didn't speak to me. Was he regretting our union? I had never pictured my newlywed days to be like this.

My throat squeezed shut as emotions I forced down tried to weasel their way back.

Distracting myself I dipped my head under and ran my fingers through my long hair, the water parting its strands quickly with grace. When I surfaced I stood to my full height, the light breeze biting at my bare skin as the water raced down my pale complexion. I exhaled audibly running my hands down my hair, the water had made as smooth as polished marble.

"McKenna..."

One hand flew to my chest while the other to my mouth to stifle my surprised shriek as I whirled around to face the voice.

There stood Connor. Dressed in simple, dark brown buckskin, he looked less menacing dressed in these as opposed to his usual uniform. He stood right on the bank, the water skimming over his moccasins.

"Connor? What is it?" I asked, my voice still shaking from being startled.

He said nothing, he only stood motionless, his eyes locked on me. The frogs and crickets' chirping seemed to escalate to an earsplitting decibel in the silence. An expression I had never seen before was etched into Connor's features. His eyes so intense I thought him to be angry. My natural instinct was to look anywhere but into those dark eyes, but I forced myself to be bold.

My hands fell back to the water with a light splash. "Connor...?" I said his name again, louder, but my words sounded timid, revealing my unease. I could force my appearance to be audacious but my voice had a mind of its own, the sound of his name tripping over my lips and stumbling out shakily.

My speaking seemed to trigger something for he started wading as fast as his body could manage. His outrageously large mass sloshed inelegantly through the water towards me.

I was a statue, unable to move or breathe. Whether I was frozen from fear I couldn't tell you. I didn't have time to process anything before he crashed into me.

His large arms encircled my waist so tightly I thought I might split in two. He rested his head on top of my own. I stood in shock for a few moments before I wrapped my arms around his large back tensely. That's when I noticed he was shaking.

Alarmed I tried with no success, to lift his head, to look into his face. "Connor, what is it?"

A strangled gasp escaped his lips and I realized that he was actually weeping, no, not weeping, sobbing. My husband, one of the strongest men I had ever known, was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Connor! What's wrong? What has happened?" His manner disturbing me further I struggled to get out of his grasp, to get a better look at him but he held onto my body tightly, his arms were steel bars. It was like he was trying to pull me into himself. I felt like he would shatter into a million pieces if I continued to try and pull away.

"Please, you're scaring me." I tried again to pull his head up to where I could see his face. He didn't resist this time. His head was dead weight as I pulled it down to look into his eyes. When I looked into them, I knew.

This was the look of a man who had seen just too much; A man who had been forced to kill his own father, who had no blood relatives left. No words were needed to inform me that he had completed what he knew all along that he had to do. This man, who has probably never cried a day in his life, was breaking in front of my eyes.

He squeezed his eyes shut once more and pressed his forehead to my own, His large tears falling from his face and rolling down my own cheeks.

"I..." He was cut off by a choking hitch sound, "I...I am so sorry..."

He brought one large, calloused hand up to encircle the back of my head while the other pressed into my back.

I found my own hand instinctively intertwining with the strands of his inky black hair. I inhaled deeply, trying to contain myself. His scent left a calming sense over me. I had to be resilient for him. He was always the one protecting now I had to protect him, even if it was just in this small way.

"Hey, it's okay... Ratonhnhaké:ton, everything is alright..." I said, not even knowing it was true or not.

Connor let his head fall into the crook of my neck, burying his face into the tender flesh that was there. His sobbing racked both of our bodies.

And I held him.

Connor has always been very private with his emotional state. Even in our wedding, as small as it was, he was reserved. In private I could often get him to loosen up a bit, but he has never, in his life, demonstrated this distress in front of me or anyone else for that matter.

This seemed all like a very intense dream, I had no idea how long we stood there. Connor eventually pulled out of my arms and turned away, sloshing away a couple steps while rubbing his arm roughly across his eyes.

He cleared his throat. It was an embarrassed sound. "I'm sorry." He repeated quietly, but this time he was apologizing for his lack constraint.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to give him time to compose himself while trying to stifle my chattering teeth and shivering. Without his body keeping me warm, my bare body was chilling in the night air, and a breeze had picked up, making my wet hair whip about me, stinging my skin.

He finally turned to face me and I witnessed his face turn a deep scarlet. He just now realized that I was naked.

I couldn't help but smile at his innocence and his chivalry as he pulled off his buckskin tunic and handed it to me. Shrugging it on, I noticed it covered a great deal because of our height difference, coming to about my mid-thigh.

I looked up again and he was gazing at me. Once again staring at me with his intense eyes, his irises made black by the darkness. Although this time, this time, his gaze was softer and much more familiar.

I waded my way towards him, pushing my bangs out of my face. He reached out to me and pulled me into his chest.

"Are you alright?"

He grunted his affirmation.

I laid my head on his chest, and he proceeded to hold me firmly. "I'm sorry I'm getting your shirt wet." He chuckled quietly and squeezed me while kissing the top of my head. "It's alright."

With that he scooped me up in one effortless and fluid motion and proceeded towards the shore with me in his capable arms.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked up into his face. "What do you need from me? I'll do anything you ask. I want to help you." I rested my hand on his strong jaw.

Connor smirked and held me a little snugger. "You have already done everything." He looked down into my face, his own filled with warmth. "I could not ask anymore of you even if I wanted to."

With that he carried me through the wilderness all the way to our cabin nestled in the very heart of the frontier.


End file.
